THE MONSTER INSIDE ME: The Immortal Chronicles: Book One Read online

  THE

  MONSTER

  INSIDE ME

  THE IMMORTAL CHRONICLES:

  BOOK ONE

  A Dark Erotic Paranormal Novel

  By

  TRISTIN CLARK

  THE MONSTER INSIDE ME

  Copyright © 2020 Tristin Clark

  EPUB Edition

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Cover design by Tristin Clark

  This book is the work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems - except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews - without the prior written consent of the author.

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This book is intended for mature, adult audiences only. It contains extremely sexually explicit and graphic scenes, adult language, violence and gore, which may be considered offensive by some readers. This book is strictly intended for those over the age of 18 years of age or older.

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  Enjoy the story, my soul <3

  xoxo,

  Tristin Clark

  CHAPTER 1 - RUN EMILIA, RUN

  Darkness. It surrounds you, blinds you. Pulls you into its embrace. It’s terrifying, thrilling, but above all, it’s alluring. It draws you in with its beauty. Captivates you with its charm. You take one step towards, and you are gone. Captured in its embrace, you realize, just how wrong you were, to fall victim as its prey, but it’s too late. The darkness has already buried itself far too deep inside and now, the only thing left to do is, run.

  “Run Emilia. Run,” whispers the little voice inside my head. I’m running. Running as fast as my two feet can take me. Not even the heavy downpour of the cold rain, that soaks throughout each layer, and heavies my clothes, can stop me.

  “Don’t turn around. Keep running,” the voice whispers again. I’m weighted, I’m wet, I’m cold and I’m surrounded by the darkness of the night. The cold rain falls thick. Each thunderous roar is felt beneath my chest. Each strike of lightening, off in the distance ahead of me, calls out to me. Urging me to reach it.

  “Go to it Emilia. Run towards the light,” my conscious says. I run, splashing through the flooded streets. I’m crying, but you wouldn’t know, as the rain washes away every tear that drips.

  I don’t know where I’m running to. All I know, all I feel is the pull. I’ve felt it before. I feel it now. It’s this dark, alluring, powerful pull, that is leading me somewhere. Where? I don’t know where, but at this point, anywhere is better than what’s behind. Anywhere is better than where I came from. What I’m running from. Who I’m running from.

  There’s a shadow casted on my very soul. One that lingers. One that follows. It’s dark, growing like an airborne virus, eating away at my mind and over-shadowing my essence. I feel it, yet I can’t remember how it got there. I only remember what happened before. Before him.

  You see, the thing about darkness is that, it never really leaves you. It’s there, lurking, hiding, waiting among the shadows until it’s time to rise and only then, does it finally engulf you. Only then, does it

  implant itself amongst the darkest corners of your mind. Only then, does it taint your very soul and stalk you, wherever you go.

  “Faster Emilia,” my inner voice urges. I pick up my speed. My crying grows heavier. I am sprinting through the darkness, until I reach a heavily flooded stretch. The water is thick. It’s too deep to run through, leveling just past my shins. I struggle on, determined to put as much distance between me and what’s behind.

  “Ahhh!” I scream when I fall. It’s too late to catch myself. My knees hit the hard ground, before my entire body submerges flat under water.

  I feel the cold-water rush past my body, as it flows over me. I rest my palms flat against the ground and raise myself, inhaling a breath when I surface. I’m kneeling, as the flooded street flows past me in weak rapids.

  I’m soaked, drenched, but mostly, I’m just fucking pissed. A bolt of lightning strikes ahead, illuminating the sky for a moment, before the darkness returns.

  “AHHHHHHH!” I scream as loud as I can, just before the roar of thunder follows. I feel it. I feel the anger. I feel it boil within my every vein and it feels good. It feels really good.

  I’m pulling at my wet hair, tugging it like a mad woman. A smirk forms and I am suddenly smiling. I begin to laugh. It starts off slow but builds. I’m laughing. I’m kneeling in shin high, cold water, in the middle of the street, at night, and I am laughing.

  I think I’ve lost my mind. I think I’ve broke.

  I gaze ahead of me. My laughter has weakened, but my smile remains. I think I’m still crying, but I can’t tell, not with the rain that takes its place, as it falls down my face.

  The lightening. I watch it, admire it. It’s beautiful. Inviting. Deadly. I find it mesmerizing. I am kneeling in water, yet I am entranced by the lightening. One strike. That’s all it will take. One strike. Hit me, I die. Strike the water, I die. I should fear death, yet here I am, in awe of its beauty. In awe of its power.

  The light may call to me, but it’s the darkness that surrounds, that fights for me and it is winning. There’s no escaping. No running, for if the darkness wants me, then there’s just nowhere to hide. It’s too deep inside. It’s made its claim. I am gone. Gone to the point of no return. Gone, lost and irrevocably broken. My soul is broken. The darkness fights to claim me and I am losing...

  I am lost.

  I reach the steps, leading up to my porch. The lights are on through the windows of my home. My parents are still up. I open the door and enter quietly. I attempt to rush up the stairs, avoiding them, as they listen to the news. I hear it in the background. It’s about those two missing graduates from my high school. I knew them. They graduated last year. They used to bully me.

  Ugh, they were the worst.

  I stop midway to listen.

  “I’m reporting live and currently standing here, just outside Hollow Woods, where the two missing residents of Hollowcreek, who have been missing for over a week, have been found. Unfortunately, we regret to state that both residents were found deceased upon arrival. Local hunter stumbled upon their two deceased, mauled and decapitated bodies just earlier today, deep in Hollow Woods. Authorities have yet to release a statement, stating if both victims are indeed, Abigail Jennings and Aaron Coalson. We can only speculate for now, that both bodies belong to the missing. Until then, this is Pamela Waters, reporting with Channel Five News. Stay tuned for further updates. More on the report after this commercial,” says the reporter.

  Holy shit! Decapitated? Jesus! What kind of sick fuck would do that? They were trash, but ge
eze... did they really deserve to die as they did?

  “Em? Is that you?” mom calls. Shit.

  “Yeah! It’s me! Just got home, but I got rained on, so I’m going to go change!” I shout.

  “Okay honey! Hope you don’t get sick!” she says.

  Too late mom. I’m infected and there’s no cure. I’m already consumed. The darkness has already buried itself far too deep inside and there’s no escaping. I’m gone. Your baby girl is gone.

  Fucking Monday. I tried to stay home today. I never left my bedroom since that night. I pretended to be ill all weekend. I almost convinced myself that I was sick, but mom wasn’t having it. She knew. That woman was good. She was the epitome of a human lie detector and she knew me well.

  Screw it. If failing a test was my biggest worry today, then bring it on. I’ve suffered worse and I’m sure I’ll suffer plenty more. What’s a little more pain when I’m already dying on the inside. The truth is my chemistry test is the least of my worries. It’s just a distraction from the real avoidance in my life. The thing I feared seeing most. Him.

  I spot my best friend moving quickly towards me, from the other end of our school hallway. Bright, cheery, don’t take shit from no one, Savannah. She has that smile on her face. The one that says, “hey, I’ve got some wild news, and you’re not going to believe it.”

  She comes to an exciting, abrupt halt in front of me.

  “Oh my God girl. Guess what?” She’s too excited this morning. Her big brown eyes light up and she’s gleaming. Gleaming a little too damn hard, but that’s Savannah. Always smiling, always beaming like the radiant queen she is.

  “I have no idea Savannah, but I know you’ll tell me.” I wish I was as awake as she, but sleepless nights know how to dampen one’s mood.

  “Oh gosh. Okay, so I was walking through the main doors and that girl Chrissy bumps into me and I’m all, “what the Hell bitch!” and she just looks at me and rolls her eyes and I’m about to throw some fists, but then Mr. hottie, new guy walks right in like he owns the place. Now I’m not talking about jockey Cole hot. No. This guy is like teen heartthrob, movie star, Swedish fucking God, panty soaking hot.” I huff and roll my eyes.

  “Nice description Van. So, what about this so-called hottie?”

  “Okay I got off track. So, he walks past me right, and lord I almost fainted, but he glances at me and it was only for a second, but his eyes meet mine and I swear to God I froze and I’m not going to lie, I

  was terrified and excited and flushed and so effing turned on all at the same time. If looks alone could make me come, he could have with just that one intense look. I swear to God girl.”

  “Wow Van. Wow. He can’t possibly be that—" And just before I can finish saying what I was about to say, there he is. The new guy. Walking towards us. Towards our direction and the first thing that captures my attention is those eyes. Those baby blue, clear as day eyes, which are locked on, me? Is he staring at me?

  Fuck... those eyes. It’s as if he is gazing into my very own soul. I find myself holding my breath. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I am frozen. Frozen and paralyzed while this, this... whatever the Hell word I want to describe this boy as but cannot come up with. There literally are no adjectives in the human dictionary that can describe how unearthly exquisite this walking being is.

  He draws closer and my entire body stiffens. I can feel my muscles tense and I am suddenly squeezing my fists tightly, digging my nails into the skin of my palms.

  His eyes never escape mine and I only just now realize that he isn’t the only one staring. I have been staring just as much as he.

  The beauty finally reaches me, and I panic. What if he says something? What do I say? Shit. Brain think fast! Oh God. He’s still staring. Stop staring at him Emilia! Say something!

  “Hello,” he calmly greets. He towers over me, while his serious gaze is locked on me. He has me pinned. He is far beyond beautiful. Too beautiful. It’s confusing. Overwhelming. Jesus. How can someone be this beautiful?

  A part of me screams danger, run away, while the other part of me screams stay. Stay and never leave. I don’t know what to do, but I know staring at him and not saying anything is not working.

  “Hello,” I nervously reply. A smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. He continues to eye me. Has he even blinked? I don’t remember seeing him blink.

  “I’m Austin,” he speaks smoothly.

  “Austin.” I repeat his name. Testing it out softly, and after I say it, that smirk of his begins to pull even wider.

  “I’m Emilia,” I say weakly. I go to hold out my hand for him to shake. He glances down at it for a moment and then eyes me, before taking my hand and offering me a firm grip. Tingles. His touch tingles. That’s strange, but also nice? Yeah, it’s nice.

  He doesn’t shake my hand. He holds it. His thumb digs into my skin in an intimate way. I glance down at our hands, then back up at him. His eyes have never left mine. I still have yet to see him blink.

  “Emilia,” he whispers seductively, as if saying my name gives him a power he just can’t get enough of.

  My heart literally skips a beat and I suddenly realize that I am breathing again. Breathing a little too hard, as my chest rises and falls in deep rhythms.

  Small talk Emilia. Small talk. Ask him something. Anything! Speak damnit!

  “So— so how— how do you like school?” I mentally face palm myself. “How do you like school?” Really Emilia? Ugh kill me now.

  “I like it now,” he says with an even wider grin.

  “Oh, well that’s good. School sometimes sucks, like today I almost didn’t come, because—" he interrupts me,

  “That would have been a shame.” My brows arch at his statement, and I give him a questioning look.

  “And why would that have been a shame?” I ask out of curiosity.

  “Because I wouldn’t have seen, you.” He emphasizes the last word like it means something. My eyes go big. Me? Me! Is he flirting with me? Is this some kind of pickup line? Has he flirted with all the girls he’s come in contact with this morning?

  My train of thought is cut short when I glance down and see that we are still holding hands. His grip tightens. He pulls me into him, while his other hand rests on my shoulder. His lips barely graze my ear and I can feel the heat from his face, the warmth of his breath and those stimulating tingles, trail down my neck, down my chest. Butterflies. They flutter beneath my stomach, in one chaotic formation.

  “And you’re worth seeing, Emilia. Every. Day,” he whispers. I gasp and pull back with eyes still locked on him. I have no words. No comment. Just this empty, blank dumbfounded stare that he seems to find amusing, because he is smirking even bigger than before.

  Oh my God. He blinked! I saw it. He glanced down and blinked. His eyes glance up under those long, full lashes and I am speechless. He has me literally speechless. He is literally the single definition of true beauty.

  That dirty blonde hair of his falls over those baby blue eyes. His fingers brush it back out of reflex and it’s that gesture, that has me jealous. Jealous that it is not I who gets to touch those silky blonde locks.

  His hand is no longer on my shoulder. He drops it, and it feels as though I’ve just lost a limb. My arm feels so lonely, so cold without his warm touch.

  “It was nice to meet you, Emilia, but I’m afraid I must go.” He takes my hand again, flips it over and pulls it up to his face.

  I see his lips pucker and I know what is to come. He lays a long, gentle kiss on top of my hand. His eyes are glued on me. My breath hitches. The feel of those warm, wet lips on my skin sends my heart into a frenzy. Too soon, he removes his lips and slowly lowers my hand, until he lets go.

  “I’ll find you later, sweet Emilia,” he says, and I can’t help but feel as if I could cry at his departure. Don’t go, I want to say, but I don’t dare.

  He walks backwards, slowly, never taking his eyes off me. He smiles and casually swings around, then moves effortlessly throug
h the crowd.

  I continue gazing, as he walks away, into the sea of bodies, until he is gone. Van blocks my view, when she jumps in front of me. Her jaw hangs low, and she appears just as shocked as I was, still am.

  “Okay. What the actual fuck was that?” she asks.

  “I have no idea,” I say in a haze. My body feels off. I’m full of anxiety. My mind has melted. I am nothing, but everything all at once.

  “I’ll tell you what that was—" I finally snap out of my trance and turn to her.

  “Wait. You’ve been standing here the whole time?” I ask in embarrassment.

  “Literally right beside you both. I never moved. I watched the whole thing. I watched whatever this was,” she says, waving her hand at where he had stood. “Girl let me tell you. That was some hot ass intensity straight out of romance R US. New boy is fucking smitten with you. How the Hell, do you manage to attract the hottest guy known to man, literally the moment he sees you for the first time?”

  “I don’t know Van. I don’t know,” I say, in a hazy state of denial. I can’t believe he had even given me the time of day. To want to speak to me, boggled my mind. Why?

  “You hot, but damn girl! That boy must think you fine! I’m calling it. Your babies are going to be fucking gorgeous.” I frown and slap her chest. Van throws her hands up in surrender.

  “Hey! I’m just saying. You two have babies and they are going to turn out looking like little Botticelli angels. Make sure you wrap his pecker, or you’re going to be popping out little angels sooner than you think.” My eyes widen at her statement.

  “Van! I love you but shut up. No one’s popping out any angel babies. You’re jumping to conclusions. We just met. He has probably been flirting with all the girls this morning. I’m sure he doesn’t even like me like that.”

  There’s no way! There are much prettier girls here, than me. Like Van. She’s gorgeous with that wild, coily black hair, cute little button nose and perfectly symmetrical round face. Even I’ll admit that Van is the total package. A true babe with a personality just as exotic as her looks. I wonder why new boy didn’t go for her. All the boys did. Well... maybe not all of them.